


No Hope Transcends

by sleepingseeker



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Loss, One Shot, Regret, SAINW, broken bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 16:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2354507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepingseeker/pseuds/sleepingseeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raphael bears the weight of guilt for a brother he never appreciated - one he too often mistreated - one he admired and respected; learning only too late that he had so much more to say to him. SAINW</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Hope Transcends

**No Hope Transcends**

"What 're you doin' out here, Don?"

His brother looks up, blinking with a frown.  As if he's been lost in his thoughts so long that he forgot the way back.  His eyes are deep and brown and full of too many things that Raph doesn't understand.  That he never understood.  He wishes he did.  He will ask him one day to explain, in as many details as possible, what it is that has him so preoccupied. But not right now.

There is a strange feeling in the air that unnerves Raphael, making him uneasy.  He watches Donatello, memorizing the lines around his brother's eyes, the light, muted, but real inside them and yet, the sense that Donatello is fading right in front of him persists.

To anchor him more firmly, to chase away his own irrational, but unyielding fear, Raph grips his shoulder. Tightly. He sits next to him with a grunt.  The concrete is rough against his bare thighs.  His hand falls away from Don's shoulder.  But he remains close, elbows touching by the barest of connections.  

He watches from the corner of his eye.  And by the soft sigh emitted through his nose, Don knows he is being observed.  Raph was never the stealthiest of their small group. Not in anything, really.

"You gonna answer me?"

They sit in silence and the world creeps towards the deeper blue of twilight; turning red to gray, green to ash.  Scars to silver, in dancing lines across aged muscle.

He chews thoughtfully on a nail before dropping his hand back into his lap. Instantly frustrated by the stretch of silence between them. Wanting to hear his brother's voice; needing to hear it.  

"Don."

"Donnie."

"Donatello."

"Raph."

The voice is crisp and sharp and has the effect of a bullet whizzing past his ear.  Raphael jumps from the cracked parapet.  As he spins to face his brother, his neck heats.  The embarrassment he feels is confused.  All he thinks suddenly is that he shouldn't have come up here.

The gray world has fallen into the black.  Washed and drained of color, as worn and tattered as the coat on his brother's emaciated shoulders. Shoulders too thin to carry them any further than where they've gotten to; this desolate place; full of regret.

He makes a mistake and sniffs.  Once.  Hard.

Behind the glasses, lines tighten.  "Raph."  The tone is softer now, makes him angrier.

"Fuck off, Leo," Raph grouches and moves to shoulder check him as he passes.

Leo twists and moves to offer an embrace.  He is caught momentarily off-guard by this unexpected move and is brought into the willow-like branches of his brother's arms. Strong, still, but brittle.  He softens, a part of him wanting to rest his head down, even for a moment onto onii-san's shoulder, to melt into that comfort, so rarely found in this bleak existence; but the instant is over before it manifests; self-preservation brings him back to who he is, not who he once might have been, and he stiffens.

It is a violent shove and a vulgar curse that fractures the compassionate offering.  A simple but devastating blow to ensure it will never happen again.  Because he doesn't need pity or whatever this is. No.  He doesn't need or want  _this_.  He doesn't need Leo.  He needs . . .

His eyes dart to the empty space. Vacant now.  Empty?  He frowns. Don was only just there.  Raph turns over his hand and stares into his palm; the one that had only a moment before gripped his brother; holding him in place.  Before he could slip away again.  

He pinches his eye closed and with it his fist.  He drops it to his side. He was there, he knows this.  It wasn't empty before.  Because once, a long time ago, they'd stop here, in this place and sit.  Rarely, but it was a true thing.  Raph knows this.  He is sure.  They had those opportunities when paired together on patrol; to talk; to joke and laugh; to stand side by side.  They had the opportunity, but ... did he ever seize it?

It hadn't always been the jeers, the insults, the belittling and harping on his brother, had it? There'd been those friendly, supportive moments.  Good ones.  Real.  Honest.  The way brothers who were also friends behaved.  Because he felt those things.  He knows this.  Donatello is...was...amazing.  Gifted.  Brilliant.  Did he never once . . .?

His eyes are watering as he stares into that empty space and the memories he needs to find do not surface.  His heart stumbles, stutters and shudders.  

But, the vision.  Hadn't it ever been true?  He can't tell.  It's hard to think straight with so little sleep and even less food.  It doesn't matter, not really. It is too late to take all the little moments and add them up; to weigh the good against the bad; knowing all the while what would overwhelm the scale.  Knowing too well.

Raphael throws the punch before Leo's shadow reaches him.  It swings wide and Leo dodges easily, even with his poor sight; growing weaker with every passing month in this dreary half-lit world full of errors and regrets and loss and pain.

He snarls, "Stay the fuck away from me," he pants. "You got that? I don't wanna ever see yer fucked up face again - got it?!"

Leo ducks his head and says nothing as he twists his body to one side, allowing Raphael more than enough room for him to pass. He strides by, without a glance at his brother, without another word. In Leo's silence, Raph feels his brother's hurt.  It brings him no savage satisfaction. No feeling at all.  Except he is tired, now.  He wants only to find a hole to crawl into and sleep.  Maybe to never wake again. Maybe turtle luck would be on his side for a change.

He reaches the edge of the building and hesitates, glancing over one shoulder to find Leo already gone.  He huffs. 

And the emptiness hovering in the spot just behind him seems to gather upon itself and stand, to cross the rooftop towards him; seems to drape a heavy arm across his shoulders, climb onto his shell and take up permanent residence there. 

Raphael doesn't mind the company.


End file.
